


Hotel California Part 5: Punishment and Piercing

by carolroi (CarolROI)



Series: Hotel California [7]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, Episode Related, F/M, S/M, b/d
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 09:19:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarolROI/pseuds/carolroi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day five offers bathtub soul-searching, piercing, and punishment in Blair's ongoing journey to find himself after TSbyBS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hotel California Part 5: Punishment and Piercing

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains scenes of safe, sane and consensual B/D and S/M. It also has pairings of Blair/F, Blair/M and Blair/F/M. Enemas and women topping men are also found within. If these are not your things, click the back button now. 
> 
> If this sort of story interests you, let me give you some background information on it. When I started this experiment in progress, I challenged myself to write the hottest, steamiest erotica I could think of. I had also been reading a good deal of erotica written by men. Men write sex tales different than women do. They're more interested in the mechanics and the getting off than the emotional element (though that is here as well). To challenge myself even further, this is written in Blair's point of view, as a man (or as close as I can get) would write it. Somewhere in there, a plot happened amid the PWP sex.

The flutter of air against my ear wakes me. Opening my eyes, I find Julia leaning over me, her expression soft, her mouth curved in a teasing smile. "Finally, sleepy head. How are you feeling this morning?" 

Rolling over, I slowly stretch. "Sore, Mistress, but the good kind of sore. Thank you for last night. I needed...that." 

Her smile widens, and brushing my hair back from my forehead, she kisses me there. Closing my eyes, I savor the moment, and the wave of contentment that flows through me. If I could stop the world at this precise second in time, I would. 

The spell is broken as Julia kisses my lips gently, then says, "Come on, pet. I've got the Jacuzzi tub full of hot water waiting on you." Pulling the covers away, she takes hold of my arm and drags me out of the bed. I stumble to my feet, and stagger with her help into the bathroom. 

She helps me into the tub after a detour to the john, and I sink with a sigh into the water as she flips on the jets. Streams of water begin to massage my stiff back. "How's that, pet? Too hard?" 

I smile at her. "Just right." 

"Good." Her robe drops to the floor and she joins me in the large tub, settling at the opposite end, her legs intertwining with mine. She rubs her foot up the inside of my thigh. "I'd like to be just Julia and Blair for a bit, do you mind?" I shake my head. "Great, because I'm curious. If you weren't doing your Detective Ellison, who were you doing?" 

I feel my cheeks grow hot, and I roll my eyes. "Julia! I told you I haven't been seeing anyone...not in a long time." I glance away as I realize just how long. 

"What about that Inspector you mentioned, Megan? Anything going on there?" Her toe gently pokes my stomach. 

Megan...god, that was a comedy of errors. She expressed interest and I missed it; I caught a clue, and she had moved on past sparkage to the just friends stage. "No, nothing going on between us." 

She mimes jerking off. "How about Rosie Palm and her five fingers?" 

My face feels like an inferno. "Does it always have to be just about sex with you?" 

She scoots forward, coming to a stop between my knees. "It's never just about sex, Blair. It's about relationships. It's about how you feel about other people, and about yourself. So when was the last time you masturbated? When was the last time you made yourself feel good?" 

Leaning my head against the back of the tub, I stare up at the ceiling. "I don't remember." 

She takes my hand in hers, stroking it, massaging my palm. "Was it last week?" she asks gently. 

"God, no! I was at a monastery! I couldn't do that when I'm sharing a room with a monk!" 

"Hmm, well, I guess I see your point there. Within the last month, then?" 

I close my eyes. "No." 

"Last couple months?" 

"I told you I don't remember." 

"Past six months?" 

She's kissing my fingertips now, and it's too much. I yank my hand from her grasp, splashing water out of the tub. "Maybe. I don't know. You try finding a private space and time to do that, living with a sentinel!" 

"So it was difficult to find time to yourself, then?" 

I snort. "Hell, yes. Imagine living with someone who can smell pheromones, can taste lust in the air. He can hear my damn heartbeat from another room. I start jerking off, and he comes running to see if I'm in trouble. It was ridiculous. I'd make sure he was gone for the evening, do it really fast, and then burn a ton of incense to cover the smell. In the four years I lived with him, I never had a girlfriend spend the night. It was just too, too weird." 

"How about before then? Did you have girlfriends stay over?" 

"No. I lived in a warehouse until it got blown up, and yes, I masturbated like a teenager then, okay?" I hear my voice break on the last word. Why in the hell is this bothering me? Why do I feel like there's something wrong with me just because I haven't spanked the monkey in six months? 

But Julia's abandoned that subject for the moment, for one that seems innocent enough on the surface. "When was the last time you were in love?" she asks. 

Staring down at the foaming water, I think about my answer. I've had a lot of casual relationships, ones that lasted a week or two, or a couple months, but there was never anyone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, except for..."Maya," I answer quietly. 

Julia's damp fingers brush my cheek. "The girl you fell in love with while spying on her father for Jim." 

Laughing harshly, I ease away from her touch. "Yeah, that one. The one I lied to, the one whose innocence I shattered. Thank god I never slept with her. That's the one good thing I ever did in that relationship." 

"All right, so you made some mistakes. We all have, Blair. But if I remember right, that was four years ago. Why no one since then?" 

I shrug. "I don't know. Just haven't met the right person, I guess. Or maybe there were other things more important to me than falling in love." 

"Like what? Like Jim?" 

I shrug again. "Yes. I thought what we were doing was important. It was about friendship, about being there when he needed my help." 

She sighs, and I get the feeling she's not satisfied with that answer, but she doesn't push for more. Instead she leans back against the side of the tub again and props her elbow on the edge, resting her chin in her hand. Her hazel eyes regard me seriously for a long moment, then she smiles secretively, like she's just figured something out. She says, "I think I'm asking the wrong questions. What's love mean to you, Blair?" 

"What?" 

"Love. Everyone has their own definition of it, their own way of knowing that's what they feel for someone. What's your definition of love? You know you love someone when...." she prompts. 

Thinking about it for a few seconds, I finally answer, "...when their happiness comes first. When making them happy makes me happy. That's what I wanted for Maya. I never wanted to hurt her, and I ended up destroying everything she thought was true about her life, about the people she loved." 

"And you've never felt that way about anyone else? I'm talking love in general, not just specifically romantic love." 

I frown. Where is she going with this? "I love my mom, and Jim is--Jim was my best friend." 

She smiles at me. "Good. It's good to love people, and be loved in return. Did Maya love you?" 

I chew the inside of my lip and look away. I really don't want to talk about this, but I answer her. "Yeah, she loved me. When she looked at me...god...it was like I was her whole world, that she just wanted to make me happy. I got lost in that, you know? When she told me she was a virgin, that she wanted me to be the first, I just...I lost it. All I could see was that everything she loved about me, everything she saw in me was based on a lie. No matter how much she loved me, no matter how much I loved her, it was a lie. And when she found out the truth...." I close my eyes, holding back the tears. "It was bad. She said she hated me...." 

"But you still have love in your life. You still have your mom, and Jim." 

Julia's words cut me like a knife. Do I? Memories assault me from all sides. Coming home to find my stuff packed, my mom telling me we have to leave town on the day I made the all-city basketball team. Of her bragging to anyone who would listen that her son is a genius, then depositing 16-year old me at Rainier and dropping out of my life for almost twelve months. Walking into the loft to find my things thrown haphazardly into boxes, Jim saying he needs space. My mom in Simon's office, informing him I'm not good enough to help Jim. Jim in the truck driving away from the reporters, his belief that I betrayed him written all over his face. Naomi telling me about the Nobel Prize opportunity, so proud of what she'd done, so proud of destroying my life. Jim throwing me a badge, like that'll make up for everything... 

"Precious?" Julia's soft voice interrupts the rush of painful images. 

I look up at her, the tears spilling over. It was always about them. Never about me. I shake my head, unable to speak. 

She moves closer, touching me, pulling me into a hug. 

"No one...I have no one..." I choke out. "Naomi's first concern has always been herself...she was always ready to pick up and go when the grass and the boyfriend were greener...but it...it never mattered because she's my mom and I love her...And Jim's the brother I never had..." 

"...And you would do anything to keep him from being hurt. You would die for him if you had to, would give up the dream you had for so many years, your life, your career..." Sobbing, I nod against her shoulder. "...would sacrifice yourself to keep his secret, and in return--" 

"--I have nothing...I have no one...no love...." It's agony to realize that, to see myself through the eyes of the people I love, to see how little I really mean to them. What kind of person am I, that no one can love me? I must have said that last bit out loud because Julia pushes me back a little, catching my face in her hands, forcing me to look at her. 

"Blair, you are a wonderful, beautiful, precious person, who I care about very much, who I have always cared about. If I had it within my power to change things, to take away the pain you feel, I would in a heartbeat. I know how much it hurts when the people you love disappoint you. But they aren't the whole world, sweetheart." She leans in, kissing my cheek. "I will always be here for you, always. So you are not alone, precious, never alone." 

Through my tears, I can see the genuine concern in her eyes. She hugs me again, and I squeeze her back, seeking some kind of solace in her embrace. 

* * *

When we finally get out of the tub and head for the kitchen, we're both wrinkled as prunes. Julia insisted on washing me and toweling me off. I'm not sure how I feel about that. While part of me appreciates her concern and support, there's another part of me that thinks it's pity. 

Her solicitousness continues as we enter the kitchen and start fixing breakfast. I'm slicing melon when she wraps her arms around me from behind, dropping a kiss on my shoulder. Putting down the knife I was using, I sidle out of her grasp, too hurt and angry at myself to accept her caring touch. 

"Blair?" There's confusion in her tone. 

"Just don't, okay? I'm not comfortable with that right now." The petulant note in my voice makes me cringe. 

"Not comfortable with what, precious? With me touching you?" She moves in front of me, making me meet her gaze. 

I can't hold it. Dropping my eyes, I say, "Yes, with you touching me like that, like you care, like you're not thinking what a loser I am, that no one's ever loved me." 

I hear her inhale quickly, then she snaps, "Pity? You think I pity you?" 

Great. Now I've pissed her off. "Don't you? I'm a fuck up. I always have been. Why do you think I'm here? I'm a slave. I'm not good enough to be anything else, be anyone else!" Even I'm surprised at my words. I thought I was past this. I don't know where all this self-hatred is coming from. 

Julia's eyes flash dangerously then she hits me, the flat of her hand striking my left cheek hard enough to stagger me. I stumble into the butcher's block and grab onto it for support, one hand going to my face. 

"So you think you're a worm, a slave, an insect to be crushed under my foot?" she asks sharply. 

"Y-y-yes, Mistress," I reply, suddenly very afraid of what I've started. 

"You think you should be punished? You think you know better than your Mistress?" She's right in my face, her fingers hooked through my collar, keeping me in place. "Answer me!" 

I lower my eyes again and whisper, "Yes, Mistress." 

I feel her hot breath on my face, then she says, "All right. You want to be a slave then I'll treat you like one. Hands behind your head!" 

While I do as she orders, Julia yanks me over to the cabinets and opens a drawer. Removing a ball of heavy twine, she pushes me into a corner and goes to her knees in front of me. "Don't move." 

I shiver. No chance of that. 

She begins to wrap the twine rapidly around my balls, pulling them down and separating them, then wrapping some more. The binding is painfully tight, and the coarse string bites into my tender skin. I whimper, but don't dare move. 

She moves on to my erect penis, wrapping and twisting the cord around it until it's enclosed in a constricting mesh of strands. She runs a double length of it over the head of my cock, tucking the ends under another loop and pulling it tight. I yelp and my hands come down from behind my head to grip the edge of the counter. She slaps my cock. "Did I say hands down?" 

I shake my head and clasp my hands behind my neck again, feeling tears sting my eyes. She leaves two long tails of string hanging from her handiwork, then stands. Grabbing me by the collar again, she drags me over to the butcher block and bends me over it, belly down. One hand on the small of my back, she reaches between my legs and pulls my genitals toward her, then ties the ends of the twine to the block's legs. She follows that up by tying my ankles to the legs as well, then fastens my wrists to the front legs of the butcher's block. When she's done, I can't move, and the tension on my cock is excruciating. 

My head is hanging over the front of the block, and I can't see what Julia's doing, but I hear her opening and closing drawers violently. Without warning she strikes my exposed buttocks. I yell. Whatever she's using, maybe a wooden spoon, it's thin and hard and hurts like hell. She works me over thoroughly, even spreading my cheeks and striking the tender flesh between them. When she finally stops, I'm sobbing, and my ass is on fire. 

Her fingers slide down my crack, her digits quickly and forcefully entering me, applying lube. Her hands leave for a moment, then return, spreading me open, and something thick and somewhat cool is inserted into me. The reassuring words and touches of last night are gone; she simply pushes past any resistance and fucks me. I'm moaning and crying and trying to wiggle away, but I'm tied too securely, and my body is reacting to her actions in spite of the discomfort. Julia hits my prostate again and again, and finally, screaming, I come. 

She moves away from me then, leaving whatever she used still inside me. I can feel the end of it sticking up between my cheeks like a strange tail. I hear her walking around the kitchen, opening cupboards, and the fridge, then she exits, leaving me alone. If I turn my head just so, I can see my pitiful self reflected in the shiny surface of the toaster sitting on the counter, the end of what appears to be a cucumber jutting from my behind. 

My tears continue to fall while she's gone. I can't even begin to explain what I'm feeling. Humiliation, shame, fear, and heartache fill me. I feel stupid as well. You should have just accepted her hugs and kisses, Sandburg. So what if it was pity? At least it was something, not this--this nothing, this painful nothing I feel now. Pity is much, much better than being ignored. 

Finally, Julia returns, setting dishes in the sink with a soft clatter. She moves to stand in front of me, then sits down on the floor. Her hand grips me by the hair, gently lifting my head so our eyes meet. "You still think I pity you, Blair?" 

Swallowing hard, I manage to whisper, "I don't know." 

The saddest look comes over her face, and she wipes at my tear-stained cheeks. "You ever hear of empathy, Blair? When someone cares so much for another person, that they share, they feel their pain? I know you hurt. I wish to god you didn't. I wish I could take it away. I wish I could make your life full of all the love you'll ever need, you'll ever want, but I can't. All I can do is be your friend, is hold you, and touch you and listen to you and hope that somehow that's enough. But I can't help you unless you let go of this hate you have for yourself. Do you understand that?" 

A silent sob shakes me, and I nod my head, more tears spilling down my face. Stupid, so stupid, Sandburg. You come here for help and then you push it away. "Please...." I yank at the bindings holding my wrist. 

Julia kisses me. "Sure, precious, give me a second." She gets to her feet and moves out of my line of vision. I feel her hand on my back, then the cucumber she'd put inside me is removed as I gasp. Then she's back in front of me again, scissors in hand, cutting the cord around my wrists, then my ankles, snipping the ties tugging at my cock. 

She helps me off the butcher's block and I try to stand, but my legs collapse under me. Julia goes with me to the floor, pulling me into her lap, holding me, rocking me. I bury my face in her neck and hold on. She whispers into my hair, "I've got you, I've got you and I won't let go. I promise, I swear I won't let go...." 

I'm the one who has to let go. I have to let go of the past, let go of my fears, my uncertainties, my shattered dreams. It's just so hard to give up those old doubts, the knives that wound my soul. So much easier to accept others' visions of me, than to break free and create my own. A memory comes to me, of my years as an undergrad, a time when I was my own person, when I lived my life, not Naomi's, not Jim's. How did I get so lost, and how do I find that person again? 

I tighten my grip on Julia, and I feel her squeeze me in return. Julia doesn't want anything from me, save perhaps for me to be happy. That realization is freeing. Sighing softly against her skin, I slowly relax. She strokes my hair, kissing my temple, and the peace I felt when I awoke this morning settles over me like a soft blanket. 

"How are you doing there, pet?" she asks. "You hungry at all?" I shake my head. "Okay. Think you can stand up?" 

"Yeah." Letting go of her, I get to my feet, then give her a hand up. 

She slides an arm around my waist. "Come on, precious. Let's go back to bed and try this again, shall we? I think we both could use some snuggle time." 

I nod, smiling at her words. I'm not sure what snuggle time is, but if it involves lying down and Julia, it sounds very good right now. I follow her out of the kitchen. 

* * *

"Go lie down," Julia tells me as we enter the bedroom. I crawl onto the mattress as she walks over to the stereo. In a few seconds, the soothing sound of Enya fills the room. Stripping out of her bathrobe, she slips into a long peach silk nightgown before she joins me on the bed. 

She pats the space beside her. "Come here," she invites, and I do, snuggling up against her, my head resting on her shoulder, my arm around her waist. Her hand comes up to lightly stroke my back. Closing my eyes, I sigh contentedly. This is much, much better than being tied to the butcher block and being punished. 

We lie there in comfortable silence for a long time. Finally she says softly, "I wish I knew what was going on with you, pet. I thought we worked this shit about slaves and subs and being treated like a person and not a possession through yesterday." 

My response is a shrug. What can I say, really? I don't understand my reaction, myself. 

Her lips press against my forehead, then she says, "I really have to wonder what you've been through the past five years. Sometimes you're just so still, and at those moments, I think your spirit's broken. When we first met, you were the most alive person I knew. Always searching, always learning. The world was your oyster, around every corner was the possibility of a pearl, and you couldn't wait to get there to find it." Rolling over on her side, she gazes down at me. "Now when I look in your eyes, all I see is pain. And god, that makes me angry, that the world you loved so much could do that to you." 

I'm biting my tongue, holding back my tears, her words cutting to the heart of me. 

"But anger isn't very productive. All you get from anger is more pain. So, this is what I'm going to do, this is my job from now on. I'm going to make you laugh, at least once, every day. And I want to make you smile every minute, if not every second of your waking hours. Starting now." 

Confused, but intrigued, I watch as she leans over my stomach, presses her lips to my skin, and buzzes a loud raspberry. I can't help it. It tickles, and I giggle. 

"That's more like it," she says with a grin. "How about a nice juicy one?" She puffs out her cheeks and puckers up, then blows against my belly again, just to the right of my navel. Peering up at me, her gaze hopeful, she looks like a demented chipmunk as she makes the lewd noise a third time. At that moment, it finally sinks in. Julia loves me. And it doesn't matter that it's not the "I'd walk through fire and climb the highest mountain and swim the deepest sea and rip out my heart to make you happy" kind of love. It's the love you have for a friend who's hurting, the kind that makes you tell stupid jokes, and try on funny hats for him just to get a smile. It's late night talks, and long silent walks, a shoulder to cry on and a place to come home to when the world's lost all its color and there's nothing left but shades of gray. 

I see all that in a fraction of a second, and then I'm laughing so hard I'm crying, or crying so hard I'm laughing, but it doesn't make any difference, because I know she'll be there for me either way. Because that's what friends do. 

She hugs me tightly, and I hold her back, thinking maybe I can get through this, maybe I can come out the other side of this the person I used to be, the person I want to be. 

Julia kisses my cheek and asks "Are you ready to get something to eat yet?" 

"I'm not hungry," I start to say just as my stomach rumbles. 

She laughs. "Uh huh. Come on, you need to eat something." Getting out of bed, she takes me by the hand, pulls me up and leads me back to the kitchen. 

* * *

An hour later we're in the playroom. I'm kneeling on the floor as Julia sets out her piercing supplies on a small, wheeled tray. When she's satisfied she has everything, she pats the top of the bondage table. "Hop on up, pet." 

I do as she says, unable to control the shiver of anticipation that runs through me. 

She notices and asks, "You still okay with this?" 

I nod. "Ohhh, yes, Mistress." 

She smiles, then kisses me deeply. "Good. Get comfortable, pet." She's raised one end of the padded leather table, so that when I lean back, I'm at a slight incline, my legs stretched out in front of me. Julia buckles a strap across my chest, just under my arms to keep me from moving when she pierces me. A second strap holds my hips down, and she pauses, glancing up at me. 

"Will you be okay if I fasten your legs?" 

"I think so, Mistress. I'm fine right now." 

Nodding, she straps my ankles to the bench, my legs apart. Climbing onto the table, she kneels between my thighs and pulls the tray toward her. Picking up a marker, she kisses me, her tongue wrestling with mine for a few moments before she sits back. With the felt tip pen, she puts a dot on either side of each of my nipples, marking where the needle will enter and exit my skin. I'm shaking by the time she's done. 

Julia lays her hand against my cheek. "You sure you're okay with this?" she asks again. 

I nod. "Just excited, Mistress." 

She glances down at my very hard cock. "I guess you are." She reaches for it, then pauses. "I think you should have the honors." 

I'm puzzled. "What do you mean?" 

"I want you to make yourself come." 

My face grows hot. "Mistress--" 

She wags a finger at me. "Uh-uh. I think it'll be good for you to make yourself feel good. If you have a problem with that, I can order you to do it." 

I take a deep breath. "I think I would be more comfortable with that, Mistress." 

Smiling, she kisses me again. "Okay. I want you to touch your chest. Just very lightly run your fingers around your nipples, but don't touch them. You can close your eyes if you want." 

Shutting my eyes, I do as she asks, feeling my skin raising in goose bumps under my fingertips. My soft moan surprises me. 

"Feels good, doesn't it, precious?" 

"Yess..." I breathe. 

"Brush your fingers over your nipples." 

I do, and flesh still tender from last night tightens into stiff points. 

"Roll them between your fingers, very gently." 

I follow her command, panting as sparks race from my chest to my erection. 

"Now pull on them hard, until you feel them burning." 

I do it, gasping at the sharp pain, which turns slowly into a spreading heat. "Oh god...oh god..." My strapped down hips are moving, futilely trying to thrust. 

"Now run your hands down your stomach. Slowly, slowly, then stroke the inside of your thighs." 

Every nerve ending is alive, and all of them lead to my swollen, weeping cock. I'm making small sharp noises in my throat as she has me lightly rub my pubic mound, then massage my tight balls. "That's it," she praises, "that's my good boy. Run one finger over the head, feel how wet you are." 

I do it, my pulse pounding in that sensitive bit of flesh, my fluid hot and slick on my fingertip. Unbidden, I bring my finger to my mouth, sucking on the digit, tasting myself, feeling the pressure in my groin increase. 

"Very creative, pet." I can hear the smile in her voice. "Now wrap your fingers around your cock--gently, gently--and slowly stroke yourself. You can come whenever you're ready, but I want you to take your time. I want you to enjoy the means as well as the end." 

Taking a couple breaths to calm myself, I tighten my grip slightly, then begin sliding my hand up and down my cock, bringing my palm over the crown with each stoke, lubricating my hand with my precum. Slowly I increase the pressure, moving harder, faster, my heart pounding, my breath roaring in my ears. 

I feel her hands on my chest, her fingers tightening on my nipples, twisting them as I whimper. "Come on, pet," she urges, "I know you can do it. Come for me, baby." 

And I do, shouting, thrusting against the straps holding me down. I go limp as my orgasm fades, barely aware of Julia swabbing antibacterial wash over my left pectoral. I grunt as the clamp grips my nipple, holding it still. There's a pinch as she pushes the needle through, then it stings, and I pant through it, opening my eyes to see the long piece of steel bisecting my skin. 

"That's good, precious, pant like a puppy dog." She smiles at me, then turns her attention to hooking the ring onto the needle. A slight pulling sensation and it's through. A bit of pain as she pinches the ring closed, then cool alcohol is wiped over it, and I collapse back against the leather, all tension leaving me. 

A straw is pressed to my lips and I take a sip. Orange juice, to counteract the light-headedness having my nipple pierced brings. She lets me drink as much as I want, her cheek pressed to mine as she praises me. Finally she takes the cup away, then catches my face in her hands. "You doing okay there, pet?" 

I blink and swallow before answering. "Yeah, I think so." I take a breath. "What a fucking rush..." 

Julia kisses my forehead, then my lips before asking, "You think you can handle doing it again? If not, we can do the right one another day." 

"I'm okay. I'd rather get it over with than have to go through the healing process twice. That's the bitch." 

She grins and kisses me again. "Yes, it is. Okay, precious, my turn to make it good for you." Her lips trail across my chin and down my throat, her teeth lightly grazing my Adam's apple. She nips at my unpierced nipple, then runs her tongue down my stomach to my navel. By this time, my dick is starting to get interested again. She curls her hand around my partial erection, then runs her tongue over the tip, licking me like ice cream. In moments, I'm hard. 

"That's more like it," she says as she straightens up, reaching for a condom packet off the tray holding her piercing supplies. Ripping it open, she rolls it quickly over me then unfastens the thong she's wearing and tosses it to the side. Straddling my hips, she rests her hands on my shoulders, holding her position just above my erection. "Your hands are free pet. You're allowed to touch." 

Swallowing hard, I place my hands on her waist. I'm not used to touching my Mistress, not in this way, and I hesitate. 

"It's okay, baby. Go ahead," she encourages. 

Inhaling shakily, I run my fingers up her back, tracing her spine, and the smooth, defined lines of muscle across her shoulders, muscle developed from wielding a whip...An image floats across my mind's eye, of myself, bent across a spanking stand, her behind me, flogger in hand. I moan, and push down on her hips, burying myself inside her. 

She gasps, then kisses me hard, biting my lip. Then she's riding me, nipping at me with her teeth, her nails digging into my flesh. She tightens around me, squeezing me, and I climax, hearing her moan of completion in my ear. 

This time I barely feel it as she pierces my right nipple. I'm only aware of her kissing me when it's done, and making me drink more orange juice. The fuzziness begins to clear as Julia is unbuckling the straps holding me down. 

"How are you doing, pet?" she asks, helping me sit up. 

"Tired...and a little woozy, Mistress," I admit. 

She pops something in my mouth and tells me to chew. It's part of a cookie...chocolate chip. She pushes the juice on me again, and I finish the glass. 

"That any better?" 

I nod. "Better, Mistress," I say, as she wipes at the small amount of blood seeping from my piercings. 

"Can you stand up?" 

Julia holds out her hand, and gripping it firmly, I hop off the table. I feel pretty good now, actually. The room isn't spinning. 

"Walk around a bit while I clean up. If you still feel okay, I'll give you your first punishment, if not, you can go rest." 

"Yes, Mistress." I understand her caution. The piercing experience affects everyone differently. For me, it's a euphoric feeling, very peaceful, and kind of floaty. After a slow turn around the room, I'm feeling stronger. As I approach her, I say, "I feel okay, Mistress. I'd like my punishment, please." 

Nodding, Julia makes an adjustment to the table we were using, pulling out a kneeling rail from the end. "Let's see if this will work." I kneel on the rail, and she positions me so that I'm leaning slightly forward, my weight on my forearms, which are resting on top of the table. "That'll work fine. I didn't want to use the spanking stand because that would press against your chest." Leather cuffs are fastened around my wrists, then hooked to the table. My legs are tied down as well, and then Julia moves over to her display of whips. 

When she returns, she sits down on the table next to me, and runs her fingers through my hair. "I'm still not sure this idea of yours is going to give you the penance you crave, but the only way we'll find out is to do it once and see if you feel better. So, today you are being punished for your betrayal of Alex, for not giving her the opportunity to explain herself before you judged her guilty. I've decided that your punishment shall be twenty lashes across the buttocks with a long crop. You are required to count. If you reach a point where you need me to stop, use your safe word. Do you understand?" 

"Yes, Mistress," I answer solemnly, and she hops off the table. 

Walking around behind me, Julia makes a few adjustments to my position, then says, "Remember to breathe between strokes, pet." 

I take a couple deep breaths, then nod I'm ready. I'm reminding myself to relax when the first blow comes. Air explodes from my lungs in a sob, but I manage to gasp, "One!" Digging my fingernails into the leather covering the table, I tense for the next strike; I can't help it. There is nothing arousing about this kind of pain. It's just a straight, hard whipping, no warm-up, no gradual building to a pleasurable release of endorphins. By the time she reaches fifteen, I'm crying, and telling myself, "five more, you can do five more..." Then it's four more, then three, then two, then I'm whispering "Twenty," and it's over. 

Julia immediately comes to my side, unbuckling my wrists, asking if I'm okay. Still crying, I can only nod as she undoes the rest of the straps and helps me to my feet. Putting an arm around my waist, she says, "Come on, precious, let's go back to your room. You can lie down, and I'll put some ointment on those marks." Her face is an emotionless mask, but in her eyes I can see it's hurt her to do this to me. 

I am so fucked up...so fucked up I can't even say I'm sorry. All I can do is cry harder. Leaning against her, I let her help me out of the playroom. 

* * *

When we reach my room, Julia helps me into bed. I roll onto my side, unable to lie on my stomach, or my back. My chest is really starting to sting, and my buttocks feel like raw meat, though I know the skin isn't broken, or even welted like it was a few days ago. Tears are still rolling silently down my face. I can't get them to stop, and I'm glad my back is to Julia. 

I can hear her moving about the room, going into the bathroom and then returning. She sits down behind me on the mattress. One hand rests on my hip to steady me, while she rubs analgesic lotion into my crimson-striped skin with the other. The pain begins to ease. 

When she's done, Julia leans over me, her hand going to my shoulder. "You okay, pet?" she asks. "I have some stuff I can spray on your piercings if they hurt too much." 

I sniffle. "I'm okay." Liar. You're not okay, and she knows it. 

She pets my hair, then brushes her fingers over my damp cheek. "You want me to sit with you? Or do you need to be alone for a bit?" 

"I...." I hesitate in my answer. I don't really want to be alone, and yet I'm ashamed that my need for penance has caused her pain. Denying myself the comfort of her presence would be a fit punishment for that transgression. The illogic of that thought makes my head hurt. 

Tired of waiting on me, Julia makes my decision for me. "Raise up for a second." When I do, she scoots further onto the bed, leaning her back against the wall. "Put your head in my lap, Blair." 

One hand comes down to gently rub my back, while the other strokes my hair. "Just let it all out, precious. Today's pretty much sucked, hasn't it? I'm sorry about that, baby. I promise tomorrow will be better." 

My tears flow harder at her tender words, and I hide my face in her stomach, pressing my forehead against the soft terry-cloth of her robe. It's warm and dark, and I can pretend I'm safe here, that I'm not crazy, that my perverted needs haven't hurt her. I don't know what I was thinking when I came here. I wasn't in my right mind that's for sure. Otherwise I would have thought things through, would have seen that my need for pain would hurt her, too. Everything I touch, I destroy. "I'm sorry..." I whisper into the cotton. 

"What? I can't understand you when you talk into my stomach, pet." 

I twist my neck to look up at her. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I didn't think...I didn't know..." 

She smiles at me, and her voice is soft as she asks, "Didn't know what, Blair?" 

Squeezing my eyes shut, I swallow a sob. "I didn't know that making you beat me would hurt you. I never wanted that...god, I don't want that..." 

Julia's eyes widen a bit in surprise, then she smiles reassuringly at me. "It's okay, precious--" 

"No it's not! I'm hurting you--" 

She presses her fingers to my lips. "Of course it hurts me to see you in pain. We talked about that earlier, remember?" At my nod, she continues, "Empathy is a good thing, Blair. It gives me a connection to you; it's what lets me know when you've had enough, even if you want to go further. If I didn't care, then I could seriously hurt you. And no matter how much you think that's what you want, deep down inside, you know it isn't." 

I wipe at my eyes, remembering the whipping she gave me to force me to use my safeword. She's right. I don't want that. I want her to care; I want this. I want her to hold me when it hurts, to comfort me when I cry. I need her reassurance that I'm not going insane, that I will get better, that this need to torture myself will go away. "Will it ever stop hurting?" I ask in a desperate whisper. 

She bends down, pressing her lips to my forehead. "It will, precious. It'll stop hurting when you can finally admit you're just as fallible as the rest of us and forgive yourself." 

I bury my face in her robe again. I'm not there yet I know. "I don't know if I'll ever be there." 

"You'll get there, pet, I promise." Her hand grips mine firmly. "And I'll be right here as long as you need me." 

I know she's said the same thing a hundred different ways since I showed up on her doorstep, but this time it finally sinks in. I don't have to be afraid anymore. Julia won't let me fall, won't let me fail, and will keep me safe from myself. 

The huge wave of relief coursing through me makes me tremble. Julia takes it all in stride, pulling the blanket over me, telling me to close my eyes and rest. She isn't going anywhere. I say a silent prayer of thanks for that. 

* * *


End file.
